Cindy sighs. Noah raises a brow, hunches over his monitor with a can of redbull by his right and his keyboard and mouse underneath his chin. The monitor is the only light in his room. "What's up?" He asks, sleep deprivation in his eyes.
"Cody ignored my text. Again." She dryly replies.
"When was the last text sent?" Noah asks.
"Twelve hours ago." Cindy says.
"Oh, I'm pretty sure he's just hanging out with Kim." Noah yawns… then widens his eyes as he realizes what he just said.
"What?"
"Um…"
"Who's Kim? He's Korean, right?" Cindy panically asks.
Noah runs a hand over his thigh, gritting his teeth while sucking a breath in. "...Cindy, uh.. Look… I should probably tell you this tomorrow. I'm tired and with that lame party tomorrow, I-"
"Tell me what?"
"...You really wanna know. Now?"
"Yes. What is going on?"
Noah hisses. "Cody is a total player. On that special we did, he admitted to me that after I hooked him up with you, his friend from middle school Kim reached out and they also started dating. I… He told me he'd be losing his virginity to her this weekend. I think he already did." He speaks nervously, slowly. A new tone for the short pessimist.
Cindy shifts. "Why didn't you tell me? Why would you keep this from me and let me get fucked over by this loser?"
"Because I felt like enough of an asshole already for setting you two up." Noah admits, looking down shamefully.
Cindy sighs.
"That's not all.. I also wanted him to succeed with you because maybe I wanted to experience a modicum of success in the dating world with you in some way because I like you." Noah quickly adds.
Polarized, it takes her a few seconds to respond. "Wow. Okay. Uh… Yikes. For how long?"
"...Since I found out you were a woman." Noah confesses.
" Yikes." She immediately whispers to herself.
"...Bad yikes?" Noah asks.
Cinderhella243 has logged out of WOW.
"Major yikes." She awkwardly corrects.
"Shit. I'm sorry." Noah runs a hand over his sweaty forehead.
"Yeah. You should be. Goodbye." Her voice breaks.
Bu-loop!
"Cindy-.." He's left alone. Tightening the empty can next to him in frustration before turning off his computer and grabbing his phone, angrily plopping down on his bed.
'We need to talk' is sent to Cody's Discourse.
LeShawna lays in bed with exhaustion in her eyes, her pajamas on her body and one leg shifted over the other as she scrolls on her phone, the time reading 3 AM. One scroll, one Leharold shipping edit. Another scroll, a video of Harold confessing his feelings to LeShawna. Another scroll. LeShawna breaking up with Harold set to dramatically sad piano music. She looks disheartened, looking away from her phone as it buzzes. Hunter texts her.
"Wyd"
She almost rolls her eyes.
"Nothing."
"I herd u have a prty soon."
"Yeah."
"Wanna go 2gether?"
LeShawna sighs heavily, then replies.
"No."
"Y not?"
"I can't be dating right now. My head isn't in it. Sorry."
"Wtvr."
LeShawna furrows her brows. She chucks her phone on the floor and buries herself in her covers. "So, so stupid.. Fucking lame ass.. Dry ass.. Ugh. What is wrong with me?"
It's six AM, according to the alarm clock next to Cody's bed. He winks his eyes open, the TV black due to inactivity. He yawns, holding the red-headed woman in his arms with an extra tight squeeze, smiling down at her. His phone buzzes again, and this time without anything better to do, he leans back and snatches it, turning it on while smacking his lips.
"Twenty missed texts? Shit, all from Noah and Cindy too-" He gasps, stopping his sentence short. Noah's text is nothing compared to the onslaught of revelation from Cindy, who had also blocked him as to not hear anymore lies he could come up with. Blinking slowly, Cody reads through the messages: I should have never agreed to be with you, cheating piece of shit, I'm gonna tell everyone about you, who the fuck is Kim… It goes on. He swallows and goes on Twitter, to find even worse results. The #Codyscandal is trending. Though a dedicated group of Cody fans called Codyheads seem to be defending him, it's evident that the world now knows who Cody Anderson is, and are hellbent on exposing him. It's only a matter of time until…
Cody watches Kim stir in her sleep, dropping his phone in a panic on the creaky bed. Her eyes flutter open, her head turning to meet him. She smiles. "Good morning.. What's up? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Oh, uh, haha.. N-nothing. I've been awake for a bit." Cody says.
"Just… staring at me? With your phone out?" Kim questions, amused.
"Taking… pictures for later. I still can't believe this is real, ahaha.." He awkwardly laughs. She smirks and pulls him in for a kiss, one that he can't reciprocate.
"Creeper." She reaches for her phone on the other table. Cody gasps and leans over her, slapping her hand. "Hey! What the hell is your-"
Cody's lips crash into hers as he lays on her body, hands holding hers down. He rubs against her crotch with a flaccid, not-at-all-ready-for-sex dick. Kim snarls, biting his bottom lip before taking over the kiss. That helps. He eventually pulls away after a few more minutes of deliberate, hard-hitting smacks of love.
"L-let's stay in today. Then we'll go to the party. We can eat pop tarts, have some crazy shower sex.. Play our instruments together." Cody reasons.
"Hm... Sounds like a lot of fun. I wanna spend more time with you here anyways. Sure." She pulls him back in, biting and suckling on his sensitive neck. He moans, thinking to himself with a guilty look in his eyes.
Now you've gotta stall her for the rest of the day. You can do this, Cody. Just think of an excuse…
Duncan stews in bed, grumbling to himself as his teal eyes look down at the messy, brunette hair atop the type A personality he has cooped up in his arms. She doesn't snore any louder than a soft rhythmic breathing. He's the big spoon, of course, something she actually seemed to enjoy quite a lot. What he didn't know is she spent about half the night uncomfortable and sweaty before falling asleep relatively peacefully. It's not like she's used to this whole romance thing, after all.
She stirs, groaning softly as she awakens, lifting her sleeping mask off of her face to adjust her vision to the blurry real world.
"Morning sunshine." Duncan greets, planting a kiss on the top of her head. She moans, laying on the pillow with all of her weight, her eyes quickly closing again.
"What time is it?" She sluggishly asks. Duncan picks up his phone and turns it on.
"8:00 AM."
"I'm usually up earlier.." Courtney laments, rubbing her eyes as Duncan puts his phone back down.
"It's the weekend, princess. You can sleep in a little bit. Besides, you earned it after kicking my parents to the curb yesterday. You sure showed them." Duncan says with a smirk.
"I did, didn't I?" She proudly asks.
"You sure did."
She laughs. "Surely… but Duncan?" Her tone goes from silly to serious in no time flat.
"Yeah?"
"That sort of argumentative talk will not go down at my parents house."
Duncan nods. "Yes, ma'am."
She sits up, her face unsure as she turns to see him. "I mean it. This is your one free ride. I told you about them already. They don't screw around. That means if you do, we'll be forced to separate."
"They can't force you to do anything, though." Duncan reaches out, hooking his arm around her waist. She puts her hands on it and pushes him off.
"Yes, they can. They can kick me out of the house, or take away my phone, or sue you. I won't have any of it. Promise me you'll be good today." She gets on her knees and gives him a serious look-down.
"I promise I'll try to be good. But you know that's not me." Duncan warns.
"I do." Courtney stands up, her feet dampening the carpet before she moves toward her bag of stuff and pulls out a notepad and pen. "Which is why I have a plan."
"Huh?" Duncan watches her, particularly her body as she bends down, confused.
"When's the party starting? Do you know?" Courtney asks, sitting down at Duncan's desk.
He picks up his phone again and spots a message from Geoff to a group chat called 'TDI Cast'. "Ah, Geoff sent a mass text this morning. He said 7:00 PM."
Shocked, Courtney turns around. "7:00 PM? Oh gosh.. Okay. We'll get ready to leave at 4:00, spend a few hours preparing dinner and eating with mom and dad, and then we'll go." She does the math in her head, counting on fingers and thinking deeply.
"Hey, don't panic. We're gonna be alright." Duncan says calmly.
"I'm not panicking!" She snaps. He recoils, furrowing his brows with his arms folded over his chest.
"You sure about that?" He questions. She sighs, hanging her head.
"You're my first boyfriend ever. You're also the worst. This is going to be really, really hard. Can you BLAME me for being stressed out?"
Duncan looks down, scratching the back of his neck as he sits at the edge of his bed. "No… I'm sorry."
Courtney swallows. "...It's alright. I'm making a list."
"For what?"
She begins scribbling numbers on the left side of the paper. "Since you're a 'bad' boy, having a set of guidelines to follow during dinner should help you in knowing what to do at their house."
"Like a ruleset? Ugh." Duncan rolls his eyes.
"Don't mope. This is for your own good." Courtney scolds caringly.
"Psht…" He glares at the wall, gripping his bedsheets. Courtney frowns, turning around in her seat before standing up and getting down to his level on the floor, placing a hand on his.
"Please, Duncan. Just one night. Just one night where you have to be good. Hell, not even a night! Two hours of your afternoon, then you can party all night long and go be on stupid Total Drama. Be good for me just this time. Be good for us!" She begs, holding his hand with both of hers. Sweat has accumulated on both of their palms.
Duncan looks around, his bad boy facade quickly dissipating as his face softens and saddens. He places his other hand around the ball of hands they have going on and nods at her. "Let's do it."
Courtney smiles, hugging him tight. "Thank you, honey." Duncan shivers, the pet name somehow getting to him. He drags her shoulders back, facing her.
"Honey's kinda lame… how about sexy? Handsome? I'll take stud."
"Ugh. For today you're honey. Tonight, you can be whatever you want." She pauses, slanting her eyes. " Stud. "
Now that Duncan is harder than diamonds, he decides to take a shower. A cold shower.
Owen sits in the kitchen of his home, his mom attempting to feed his baby brother as his older brother watches TV in the other room. Owen claps as his dad plates a stack of warm, buttery, syrup coated pancakes onto the table in front of him. Picking up a knife and fork, he goes to town. "Enjoy, buddy." Mr. Mccord says, despite never needing to.
"Open wiiiide, Gaviiiin." Mrs. Mccord, decked out in a beautiful looking dress and conservative shoes, holds a spoon out for her son. He doesn't even entertain the idea, turning his head away. "Oh, you are such a fussy eater! You're nothing like your brother."
"Seconds, please!" Owen chirps.
"Hey, son, where's Izzy?" Mr. Mccord asks.
"Oh, she's sleeping in. Turns out partying all night tuckers some people out." Owen talks with food still in his mouth.
"Ah, the advantages of having tons of body fat to store your energy in, son. You really do learn to appreciate it." Mr. Mccord replies.
"True that!" His wife agrees.
Izzy walks into the kitchen, stretching her arms out enough to reveal her less-than-conservative armpit hair. "Gooooood morning, everypony!"
"Everypony?" Owen's parents question. Izzy sniffs the air, hugging Owen tightly around his neck. A little too tightly.
"Ack! E-E-Scope!.. That's uh, very nice, but.. Ack! I can't breathe…" Owen yelps. She unleashes him and sits next to him, immediately leaning in towards Gavin.
"Good morning, bustah! What's up? Not eating your breakfast?" She asks. Gavin is already smiling and giggling. Owen's mom hands her the can of baby food and spoon.
"You wanna give it a crack?"
"Sure! I love feeding babies. When I was stranded on an island all by myself, I kept sane by befriending a momma bird and her babies. Had to do a lot of upchucking!"
"You're sane?" Owen's dad asks.
As Izzy effortlessly feeds Gavin, Owen gets a text from Geoff. He takes out his phone and checks it. He gasps, replying back hastily. His face falls, teeth digging into his bottom lip. Gavin eats the rest of his food before his parents eyes, while Izzy dutifully pats his head and cheers him on. "Alright, E-Scope Jr! Great haul." The baby burps before laughing again. Owen's mom scoops him up in her arms and smiles sweetly.
"Thank you so much, Kaleidoscope. You're such a doll for this."
"It's my pleasure. Children are the future, after all." E-scope replies.
"We're gonna get ready for church, okay? You two should do the same." Owen's mom says.
"Okay!" Izzy barks. She leans down at Gavin. "Buh-bye, baby Owen!" The baby reaches out for her as he's carried away, waving back at Izzy as she waves at him. She then turns to Owen and grabs a stack of his pancakes, eating it in just a few bites.
"Izzy- I mean Kaleidoscope! Check this out…" He shows her his phone. Izzy gasps.
"Geoff wants YOU to get him beer for his party?!"
"I know, right?" Owen's question is answered with Izzy's loud laughter.
"Why YOU?! You're so… soft!"
"Hey!" Owen frowns.
"It's true, Big-O! He needs YOU of all people… now that's funny!" Izzy continues laughing, making Owen feel a little bad as he presses his index fingers together.
"I think maybe he knows I'm with you, so he wants us both to get the beer." Owen explains. Izzy squishes his big, chunky face with her hands.
"Don't worry, Big-O. E-Scope has a plan!" She smirks devilishly.
Heather lays in bed. She's been laying in bed since she arrived at her new home. The movers quickly moved everything in as she barked and screamed at them, demanding them to get to work. They stayed silent, but the laughter behind her back could be heard as clear as a sunny day. Just like in school. Her brown haired wig hangs over her bed, the ceiling burned into her retina. It's one of those white popcorn ceilings with cracks forming as a pattern. It looks awful.
And yet, anything looks better right now than her face - or even worse her hairless head. Her stomach growls, for the third time today, so she decides to finally get off the lavender and pink princess bed and eat something before she dies of starvation. She grabs her phone on her way out, still wearing his pajama shorts and bra. Heading to the bathroom to wake herself up, she sets her phone down by the sink, turns on the faucet and splashes her face with the running water. During this process, her phone vibrates, the whole sink shaking. She takes a look down at a text from Geoff about the party. The party she had no intention of attending.
Why would she? Why would she want to attend a gathering with the same twenty one people she's grown to hate, detest and be annoyed by for the last eight weeks? Why would she want to spend another minute listening to Lindsay go on and on about her stupid white girl problems? Why would she wanna hear LeShawna make fun of her for the fiftieth time while being completely justified in doing so? Why would she wanna look at Owen after he stole what was rightfully hers away from her. And Gwen. And Trent. Those two she ruined, no doubt.
She glares at herself in the mirror, then spits at her reflection, walking away from her phone and from the bathroom.
Geoff paces back and forth in his house, mashing his fingers against the screen of his phone, practically assaulting the mini keyboard he uses to contact the TDI cast. Sweat beads down his temples and his eyes are widened significantly. Bridgette sits on the couch behind him, trying to watch TV while eating chips.
"Okay, so we still need a dj… we still need beer… we still need-"
"Do you mind, babe? I can't see the TV." Bridgette gently asks. Geoff stops and rolls his eyes, still standing right in front of the TV regardless.
"Bridge, this party needs to be perfect, otherwise my reputation as a party boy is like, screwed? Don't you get it?"
Bridgette purses her lips. "Sure, but.. Aren't parties supposed to be fun and relaxing? You've been panicking all day. Is everything alright?"
"No, everything is not alright, because the party is gonna be the worst one I've ever thrown! Ugh, just.. Can you make yourself useful and go set up the tables and games?" Geoff snarls, avoiding eye contact.
Bridgette furrows her brows, standing up defiantly, her bag of chips falling on the couch. "Excuse me?"
"What? Do you need me to repeat? Set up the tables and games! Geez." Geoff yells, once again pacing.
"Okay, you do not talk to me like that!" Bridgette yells back, pressing a finger against his chest as he comes toward her. He winces, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just-"
"Need this party to be perfect? Sure. I'm calling my friends to help though." She grabs her phone from her pocket and walks into the kitchen.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, sure." As Geoff continues to pace, a thought comes into his head. He hits a few spots on his phone, then brings it to his ear.
"GEOFF?! DUUUDE!" Brody's puppy dog voice exclaims excitedly, making Geoff squint as he soothes his aching head. "Oh my gosh, you're back home! How are you, my man? Hey, I saw that-"
"No time, Brody! Can you get some hot pockets, fizzy orange soda, and-"
"Ground beef?!" Brody finishes for him.
Geoff smiles slightly. "Heh.. Yeah, ground beef, buddy."
"Aw yeah! This'll be just like the party before you left for Total Drama Island! Oh, by the way, CONGRATS ON GETTING ON ANOTHER SEASON, DUDE! Woo-hoo!" Brody's loud voice clips his phone's microphone.
"A-ah, yeah, right, thanks buddy, anyway gotta go, meet me at my place!"
Geoff puts his phone down and sighs, grappling his head. "I need some Tylenol."
In the kitchen, Bridgette taps her foot against the hardwood floor impatiently, her phone to her ear. "Yeah, Melanie? I need some pot. Now. Also, if you could bring Sweeney and Wind-Song, that would be appreciated. Yeah, it's for a party, how did you know…? Wait, what?" Her eyes widen and jaw drops.
Eva sits in her garage, the door closed and her airpods blasting some intense heavy metal. One arm bends up and down as she pumps iron, a dumbbell that looks like it would kill any normal person if it landed on their foot. Eva growls, muttering her current number under her breath, her phone resting in her pocket. It vibrates, a notification bell going off and interrupting her current song.
"RAH! I HATE THAT! WHY DO YOU DO THAT TO MY MUSIC? WHAT DO NOTIFICATIONS HAVE TO DO WITH MUSIC?!" Eva stands up, throws her dumbbell against the garage door, denting it. But it looks like she's done that a few times by now. She sits back down on the leather chair she was sitting on, sighs and checks her phone, a miserable look on her face as the screen lights it up. It's the group chat. Geoff reminds them once again of the time the party starts. Eva calms down, texting a short:
"K."
The side door opens, her face once again becoming angry. She turns and stands. "You know this is my vent zone! If you're gonna be in here, you better be wearing headphones!"
"Eva? Is that any way to talk to grandaddy?" An elderly man with brown spots all over his hairline and hands questions, his eyes barely open. Eva gawks, a smile forming on her face as she runs up to him and hugs him gently.
"Grandpa! W-what are you doing here?"
"Retirement is boring. I watched your show on TV and knew you were home now because there was no more episode. So I come and visit." He explains.
"Oh, you don't know how much I missed you." She gushes, hugging him even tighter.
"Aye. You did great out there, Eva. Very good. Make your parents very proud." His Russian accent states. Eva steps back, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly.
"I did? I was such a hothead…"
"They don't care. They know your struggle. In fact, they told me what happened to your gym membership."
"Oh, geez.. You're not gonna scold me too, are you?" She folds her arms defensively. "They had it coming, you know."
"I would not dream of such a thing. I wanna tell you something my mother told me when she was still alive." He gestures toward the seat in the middle of the room.
"Oh.. okay." She lifts him up bridal style and carries him onto the chair. He pats his lap. She reluctantly sits on it. He shudders, but sucks it in.
"When I was a teenager, I was rebel. Did not want to join army, did not want to join bar with friend, did not like school. I worked out every day to build a body perfect for me. My gym was like second home. My parents did not approve, but my mother once said to me after I had been expelled from secondary school for firework in building, she said, 'If you are standing against us to protect what you think is right for you, then we no longer want to fight'. There is reason your mother and father are so sweet and accepting of your attitude."
"They're always on my case about it…" She mumbles.
"Worse parents would have put you in boarding school. Most parents would call you deranged. You are Eva Chantrey. What you believe is right is to you. That's all we care about. Eva, if you are… how you say, bi-curious.. That is okay. Own it. Stand against as many twats as you can."
Eva smiles, once again hugging her grandpa, this time throttling his neck. "Thank you. For everything."
"Ah, anytime my lovely darling. I smooch you." And so he does, right on the cheek. "Now enjoy that party. I hear from blue bird app it will be eclectic, no?"
Her face drops. "Wait, what?"
It's lunch time at the Fahlenbock's. Trent and Gwen's mom, Allison, share an eruptive laugh at one of Trent's anecdotes, about the time he played in a retirement home and had an entire cake thrown at his head for sucking at fourteen years old. Gwen folds her arms, a sour look on her face. Her brother sits across from her, even he looks uncomfortable. He mouths "She REALLY likes him." Gwen flips him off. Trent throws an arm over Gwen's shoulders and nuzzles into her as he picks up his sandwich and takes a bite.
"Mm! Mm, oh my goodness, Allison, this sandwich is-"
"Allison? What happened to Ms. Fahlenbock?" Gwen questions.
"Oh, last night Trent had to go pee, and I caught him on his way out of the bathroom! We talked a bit and I gave him my first name. Seems fitting since he's family now, right?"
Gwen groans, but decides to stay quiet, picking at her ramen noodles. "So, Andy, anybody ever teach you how to play guitar?" Trent asks.
"Oh, uh, does Guitar Hero count?" Andrew wonders.
"Not really. But I wouldn't mind playing a few games with you after lunch. We don't have to be at the party for a good bit, so it could be a ton of fun. What do you say, Gwen? Wanna be on bass?" Trent suggests, smiling.
"Bass? Seriously?" Gwen raises a frustrated brow.
Trent realizes his mistake, looking down at the ground. "Well, I'm just, you know, suggesting it, you can be on drums or-"
"So what, my voice isn't good enough for vocals? Thanks, Trent. Nice vote of confidence from MY boyfriend there." Gwen folds her arms even tighter, glaring at the wall behind her brother.
"Uh… Are you okay?" Trent asks, reaching out to her arm.
"Just peachy, thanks." She grumbles.
Andy and Allison look between each other. She swallows and stands up. "Uh… Hey, who wants something sweet? I have some brownies in the oven."
"Yes please!" Andy quickly and excitedly says. Trent laughs.
"Oh, man, I bet your brownies taste amazing, Allison. I can smell them from here."
Gwen twitches.
"Oh, they do. Some of the best brownies you'll ever have." Allison sing-songs.
"Oh, I bet." Trent replies excitedly, his mouth watering.
Gwen stands up. "That's it! Trent and I have plans." She forcefully takes his arm, dragging him off his seat.
"We do?"
"You do?" Allison asks.
"Oh boy." Andrew looks down.
"Yes. We're seeing some of my friends. Sorry, you won't be able to enjoy any of my mom's amazing brownies, but maybe my friends can give you a good treat. Huh? Is that cool?" Gwen sarcastically questions, malice in her voice.
Trent scratches the back of his neck. "...Gwen, baby, I-"
"You remember I told you I wanted you to meet my friends, right?" Gwen growls, her face even closer to his.
"O-of course, but, isn't it a little rude to-"
"Nonsense, Trent, honey! Go run along and see her little friends. It'll be a lot funner than hanging out with us. Go on!" Allison smiles sweetly.
"If you consider writing poetry and drawing decapitated heads fun…" Andy mumbles, receiving a light smack in the back of the neck from his mom as she walks behind him. "Ouch!"
"Uh, sure, okay. I guess we'll see you again tonight anyway, right?" Trent questions.
"Sure. Enjoy the party, honey." Allison walks up to the kids and hugs them both, but Gwen is incredibly disturbed. Trent gives her a half hug back, noticing Gwen's strange behavior and not wanting to anger her further. Gwen walks away, toward her room.
"I'm gonna get ready. You should, too."
"Uh… right." Trent cautiously responds. Allison pulls back and holds Trent's face in her small hands.
"Please, please, please don't hurt my baby girl. I know, I know, I know.. But she loves you so much." Her eyes are soaked in unreleased tears. Trent goes wide eyed.
"..She does. Huh?"
"I believe so. I've never seen her with.. Anyone before. She's so new to all of this." Allison whispers.
"Hah.. I understand. I won't let you down, ma'am. And save some brownies for me! I could use the pick-me-up on the show." Trent confidently replies.
A warm smile graces her lips. "Oh, of course, sweetie. Thank you so much for being with her. We only want the best for Gwen."
"Of course." Trent steps back. "I'm gonna go."
"Okay, honey. Enjoy yourselves." She watches him leave in the same direction as Gwen, worry in her eyes and her hands collected under her stomach. Andrew walks up to her.
"...Mom, can you cut the brownies please?"
A brown man in a suit sits with his hands in his face, disappointment radiating off of his body. Katie and Sadie sit across from him on another couch in Katie's very nice living room. Sadie's mom is working on T-shirts in the background, while Katie's mom sits next to her husband awkwardly.
"...Daddy, I want you to stop being disappointed in me." Katie says, breaking the silence. The sound of an iron being applied to a shirt is the only sound aside from the clock on the wall ticking.
"That is impossible now, Katelin." Her father replies under his hands.
"Honey, please.." Her husband pleads, touching his arm.
"Don't 'honey' me. I have seen my own daughter shove a pen up her vagina. I will ALWAYS be disappointed in you." He snaps, folding his arms while looking away from his family.
Katie looks down, swinging her legs as she thinks. Then she speaks. "...What if I were to marry a Jewish man?"
Her father looks up. "...I'm listening."
"And I'll be celibate until we get married. No sex, no drugs,"
"No rock and roll. Teehee!" Sadie finishes for her, the girls speaking in unison.
"Definitely no rock and roll! You've had enough fun for your lifetime." The patriarchy scolds. Katie chuckles nervously.
"Oh, please, we all know where you met your wife, Clint." Sadie's mom says, continuing her work on the shirts with her hands.
Clint looks beet red. "I-..."
"Huh? What are you talking about mom?" Sadie asks, turning to look at her mom behind her.
"Clint here met his wife at a strip-"
"Mall! A strip mall. And back then your mother was as classy as ever." Clint intercepts.
"Well… I suppose being an escort is classier than being a prostitute." Clint's wife states.
Katie and Sadie's jaws drop.
Sadie's mom stands up, turning her iron off. "...Good news! I'm gonna be selling these little t-shirts at your party later today, sweetie!"
Sadie slowly turns back to her mom. "...Oh, ahaha… yeah, get that bag, mom…"
"Uh… Hehe.. s-should I have kept my mouth shut?" Sadie's mom asks awkwardly.
Clint, bewildered, looks up at his daughter while drumming his fingers against his thigh. "Um… You know what, Katie? Do whatever you want. Just never speak of this to me again."
Katie swallows. "I uh, I'm done with OF anyways, daddy. As far as I'm concerned, you and mommy met at alcoholics anonymous like you told me and I'm going to cosmetology school when I turn eighteen."
"Thatta girl. Now, I'm gonna go take a long, thoughtful shower and forget this ever happened." Clint gets off the couch and robotically exits the scene, heading towards the hallway. Silence envelopes everyone. Katie's mom sips a cup of coffee, her eyes shifty.
"Let's get ready for the party." Sadie breaks the silence, smiling wide, collecting Katie's hands in hers.
"Eeeeeeehhhh! The party!" They screech in unison, smiles back on their faces.
A lanky looking guy with white foundation, long black hair with green streaks within, pierced nipples and no shirt on starts talking out of his metal-pierced mouth as he shows off a drawing of himself being torn in half by some sort of demon. "This is a piece I like to call 'The Joy In Death.' As you can see, I'm smiling here. See?" He points at the drawing of himself, the 'smile' in question more akin to a look of thrill and ecstasy.
A scrawny looking girl with green hair and a pixie cut, a low cut tube top and tattoos all over her body clears her throat as she brings a piece of paper up to her face. "This poem is called: 'Everywhere.' Death consumes me while I sleep, it eats away at my peace. There is no end to this hellscape, life continues to rape. Our hearts are gone, and replaced, darkness. A void that eats all. Darkness to all." She nods.
Gwen rolls up her sleeve and shows off a variety of sketches she did in black ink on her arm. "This is from this morning. This one is of my heart with a sword in it, and this one is a cowboy hat drenched in blood."
"That's pretty cool, babe." Trent says, forcing himself.
Gwen looks up at him, eyeing his discomfort. She smirks. "What craft did you bring, honey? "
"Uh… Well, I was unprepared for all of this, honestly, but luckily, I bring my guitar everywhere I go. Anyway, here's 'Wonderwall.'"
Pixie dust, the girl, grimaces. "Wonderwall? Psht, freakin' poser." But Trent is already strumming his guitar. It's too late to turn back now.
"Man.. everybody loves Wonderwall.." He murmurs before vocalizing.
Later, Trent sits outside of the house on the porch of her friend's house, hugging his knees with a frown on his face. Gwen steps out and closes the door behind her. "Hey. Why did you say you were going to the bathroom if you're out here."
"I did use the bathroom. Tell Pixie Dust I'm sorry for clogging the toilet."
Gwen frowns, folding her arms. "So.. what is this then?"
"I called an Uber." Trent answers.
"What? Why?" Gwen asks.
"Because I can tell when I'm not wanted. Like right now." Trent states.
"The hell is that supposed to mean?" Gwen growls, folding her arms.
Trent turns around to look at her. "Gwen, I see what's going on here, alright? You're jealous because me and your mom get along well, even though the whole reason I'm bonding with your mom in the first place is so I can be closer to you, and-"
Gwen gets down to his level. "Bullshit. You have a hard-on for her. I can see it in your fucking eyes, Trent." She pokes his chest, hard.
Trent facepalms. "Oh my god. How much longer are you gonna cling onto this whole Heather thing? I said I was sorry, and I DO regret it. I'm loyal, Gwen, to the end!" He gestures toward his heart.
"You fucked my arch enemy." Gwen vilely spits.
"And you forgave me. I thought we were past this." Trent shoots back.
"Well, I guess I'm not as over it as I thought. But hey, look, you're proving my point now. Where are you going? Back to her place? Gonna eat her brownie out, Trent?"
"That's disgusting. I don't date older chicks anymore." Trent answers, genuinely repulsed.
"What a load. You're totally into her." Gwen says.
"No, I'm not. I'm gonna go to my place, take a nap, and then head to the party." Trent turns back toward the street, no longer humoring her.
"You're gonna go to the party without me? Do you know what people will say if they see us separate?" Gwen demands.
"Since when do you care about what other people think of you?" Trent questions.
"I… I don't." She mutters, catching herself.
"Uh-huh. Whatever. I'm not doing this. We can talk more at the party. I'm exhausted, I feel like shit, and I don't even know if-"
The door slams. Gwen leaves angrily, leaving Trent to wince at the loudness of the door. He sighs, checking his phone for how much longer left he has before he's collected. "...If you even wanna be together anymore."
Beth sits across from Brady at a diner, the kind of diner you walk into and think 'woah, am I in the 50s?' Beth eats a plate of French fries while Brady chomps down on a hotdog, a strawberry sundae next to his arm.
"Back when I had braces, french fries used to salt them too much and make my mouth taste all rocky for the rest of the day. Now I don't have to worry about that!" Beth says, throwing a fry into her mouth happily.
"Woah, cool. I had cavities, that's why I was at the ortho-whatever. Mom says from eating too many sweets. What does she know?" Brady questions, sipping his milkshake intensely.
"It's 'Orthodontists', sweetie. And that's okay. I like a guy with a sweet tooth." She replies, swaying her finger back and forth against the table as she munches on another fry.
"Yeah, it's chill and all. Just wish my mom would get it like you do." His surfer dude voice trails off.
"I know, right? Moms are the worst. Except my mom. She's the sweetest!" Beth smiles.
Brady's face lights up. "Ooh, your mom sounds like she tastes good."
Beth sighs in the best way possible, holding her head up with her hands. "So… what do you wanna be when you grow up? You know, if modeling doesn't work out."
Brady taps his chin thoughtfully. "Uh… maybe I'll go back to my old job at the chicken shack. You know how good that place is? They pay fourteen dollars. Fifteen if you hand over your tips at the end of the work week."
"Anything more… lucrative?" Beth questions cautiously.
"Huh? Leakrative? Oh, I did used to volunteer helping people stuck in avalanches. I used to say, 'Hey! Get that guy some butter, a stick and a camera, because we're about to bust him outta this baby!"
Beth giggles. "What was the camera for?"
"For a sweet pic of the near death experience, duh."
She smirks. "I think you and I are going to get along just fine, Brady baby."
Brady chuckles. "Hahaha, you're really cool, Beth. And a total cutie. But uh, look, I'm not sure if we can date." He sadly states, scratching the back of his neck. Beth's face falls, her bottom lip pouting. Her glittery red dress and long hair are a stark contrast to the despair resting on her face.
"Huh? Why?"
"My stupid mom thinks I'm too young for dating." Brady growls, folding his arms.
"But sixteen years old is the prime age for dating!" Beth replies.
"I know, right? Well, anyway, if I do actually date you, she'll take away my skis. We're going to the slopes in like, a week, down in Aspen. No way I'm missing that." The model explains.
"What skis? It's the middle of summer." Beth questions.
"Water skis." Brady says between a mouthful of food.
"Ooooh. Okay. I understand." She frowns, looking down.. Then slowly back up into his own disappointed eyes. "But, can we still try dating after I'm done with Total Drama Action?"
Brady strokes his chin, looking at a kids meal menu behind Beth. "Hm… I bet my mom would be cool with it if you won. 'Cause then I'd be a millionaire and wouldn't have to work."
"Really? So you're saying there's still hope?" Beth leans forward, her perfectly aligned teeth showing.
Brady grins. "For sure! You got this season in the bag. Oh but, I can't tell people I like you, 'cause if they tell my mom, that's bad news, dude." He waves his hand in front of her.
"I understand! I know where your heart really is!~" She smiles widely, holding his hand with her sweaty ones. He smiles back, placing his other hand over hers.
"We can.. Still kiss, if you want." He moves his eyebrows up and down suggestively. She giggles, leaning over the table.
"Will you still go to the party with me?"
He glances to the left. "It's past my bedtime…"
Beth looks down. "Okay.. can you still drive me? I don't have a ride."
He tilts her chin up. "Sure.."
They close the gap, their lips meeting… Brady takes a picture of the kids menu behind her shoulder, his eyes opening while hers remain closed as she has her first non-forced kiss.
Harold watches through the window of the train he rides on at the simmering sun highlighting orange over the town he resides in. His wizard garb still on his person, he stands out like a sore thumb compared to all of the business men returning home from work, drunk bums lounging around the aisles and single mothers riding with their kids. He scrolls his phone, which hums with a new text as the train stops to drop off some passengers. Geoff alerts the group that there will be alcohol at the party, and weed. Harold smiles. His first ever intense teenage party. Almost everyone replies, either with enthusiasm, skepticism or an emoji… everyone except for Heather.
After Harold replies with "Sweet!" He swipes to the information section of the group chat, where he finds Heather's name over her phone number. Tapping it, he decides to call her.
Ring…. Ring….
To his surprise, she picks up on the third ring.
"What?" Her scathing voice questions.
"Hey, Heather. It's me, Harold." Harold cheerily greets.
"I know that." She growls.
"You saved my number? For real?" Harold questions excitedly.
"I recognized your voice, dork. Now what do you want?" Heather replies.
"Oh. I was wondering if you're going to Geoff's party." Harold says.
"Why do you care?" Heather snappily questions.
"Because we're friends, duh. I don't have anyone else to hang out with." Harold answers.
"What about LeShawna?" Heather asks.
"We're not really talking right now. Not sure why. I'd still like to be friends… and more. She can't avoid me forever, you know."
Heather stays quiet.
"So, uh, are you coming or not?" Harold asks.
Heather fists her sheets while biting her bottom lip. "No. I… I don't wanna see those losers right now."
"Is it because you lost your wig?" Harold asks.
"No! I have a new wig now. That's not the issue." She yells.
"Then what is?"
"I just don't wanna see those wastes of space any sooner than I have to."
"I see… But what about me?"
Heather rolls her eyes. "What about you?"
"Don't you wanna see me again?" Harold smiles dorkily over the phone. Heather sighs.
"Goodbye, Harold."
"Wait! We could.. We could prank them."
Heather raises her eyebrow. "...I'm listening."
"In chemistry class, we learned how to mix chemicals to make some pretty nasty explosions. With enough experimenting I was able to make a bottle of ammonia into a full on stink bomb." A few passengers look at the wizard LARPing teen weirdly.
"A stink bomb, huh? What's it smell like?" Heather asks curiously.
"It smells exactly like the streets of New York City after New Year's Day." Harold explains.
"Ewwwah! And LeShawna and Gwen are definitely gonna be at this party?" Heather's frown turns upside down. Harold smirks.
"Well, yeah. And Duncan and Courtney. It's revenge for me too, you know."
"Tempting, tempting… okay. I'll meet up with you at your place to discuss the plan."
Harold's eyes light up as he pumps the air. "Sweet! I await your arrival, milady."
"Right.. Well just hurry up and get ready." She hangs up, climbing out of bed with a reinvigorated mind. With a grin, she puts on her shoes. "Oh, this is gonna be good."
Justin, wearing a blue tuxedo, flexes, poses and stretches his arms out over his back over a wall of sponsors as cameras after camera flashes him, the screams of teenage girls and paparazzi in front of him filling his ears like a symphony of praise. He smiles, showing off his gorgeous teeth. "Haha, yeahhh, thanks for coming out, ladies! You're all my biggest fans." As a result of this statement, nearly all of them pass out on the spot. An interviewer with black, graying hair and a jawline that could kill launches himself next to Justin, microphone in hand, pointing at his mouth.
"Justin, lover boy, tan-a-licious, Big J! This is Josh with Celebrity Manhunt, how are you doing tonight?" Josh questions.
"Heyyy, Josh! I've seen the show man, nice work." Justin replies, not breaking eye contact with the cameras.
"Thank you! Tonight is your final night away from Total Drama, is it not?" Josh asks.
"That's right." Justin nods, his eyebrows jumping up and down suggestively.
"What will be your strategy for the upcoming season?" The host questions.
"Well, the plan is to make some friends, make some good connections and maybe find love. I've learned a lot from last season, that's for sure." Justin explains.
"That's our Justin! Which contestant on Total Drama are you looking forward to seeing the least?" Josh asks.
Justin chuckles. "Josh, buddy, I don't hold grudges! I'm looking forward to seeing the whole family again. Okay, real talk? Heather. She totally got me eliminated last time, and I'm not letting that happen twice. Nuh-uh!" The crowd cheers, the cameras erupting in white light.
"Ooh, seems like Heather is scorned once again! Okay, last question before we let ya go-"
"Go? Oh, crap. What time is it?" Justin asks.
"Oh, it's uhh," He checks his watch. "5:30 PM."
"I gotta go. Party happening, and I gotta be there. Please, Josh, and everyone here tonight, tune in tomorrow for the first episode of me… in Total Drama Action~" He flashes his chest and stomach, pulling his tux top up over his heart, the screams of his entourage bliss. His bodyguards, both stocky, tall and muscular bald guys, take each of his arms and lead him to his limo. Josh watches him go before facing the camera.
"You heard it here first, folks: Justin is going to find love in season two, interview courtesy of Celebrity Manhunt! Back to you in the studio, Blaineley!"
The dining room is the prettiest and nicest Duncan has ever been in. Sitting next to Courtney in front of a flower themed tablecloth and across from two middle aged, seriously pissed off slow eaters, Duncan is wearing a flannel shirt, fully covered blue jeans and his mohawk, which has been slicked down completely to blend in with the rest of the hair on his head.
Courtney's mother and father, the latter towering over his pretty wife, judge silently. Mr. Barlow glares at Duncan with the ferocity of a forest fire. Duncan uncomfortably looks down at his plate of alfredo pasta, a smaller serving size dedicated to him compared to everyone else. Courtney forces a smile, chuckling softly at the awkward silence.
"This pasta is delicious as always, mama." She says.
"Hm. How do you feel about my food, Duncan?" Her mom hums, his name like venom on her tongue, her small, Cleopatra-esque eyes narrowed at the delinquent dating her daughter. Duncan stares back at her with soft, nervous eyes, picking up his fork with a coil of white sauce covered pasta. Courtney nudges his arm with her elbow.
"Oh uhhh, y-yeah, it's great! Even better than how my mom makes it." Duncan compliments, beginning to eat the pasta halfway through his sentence.
Courtney steps on his foot. "Duncan! Rule sixteen, no talking with your mouth full!" She whispers. Duncan bites his bottom lip and avoids eye contact with everyone at the table in shame. A sigh emits from Courtney's father, while her mother closes her eyes and begins eating small, slow bites.
"Duncan." His thickly accented voice beckons.
"Yes, uh, sir?" Duncan swallows, his head snapping in the big man's direction.
"What are your intentions with my daughter?"
Duncan looks down, rolling up his sleeve. Courtney had written out an answer for that question. He quickly looks up again and answers. "Me and Courtney would like to…" He looks down, then back up. "Date! Uh, date, as in.. be boyfriend and girlfriend, for the foreseeable future. We.. understand that the both of you disapprove of our… relationship. And so we're prepared to adjust accordingly?" He raises his unibrow, looking at Courtney as if to ask her 'what the hell?' Courtney rolls her eyes, taking Duncan's hand in hers.
"What he means is we're gonna work hard moving forward to be a healthy, sophisticated, model couple. We won't let you down." Courtney answers.
"Gonna?" Courtney's dad questions, sparing a glance his wife's way. She shrugs. Duncan squeezes Courtney's hand. She looks embarrassed.
"Going to! That's what I meant. Hehehe.." The CIT corrects herself. Both parents raise eyebrows at her, though Mr. Barlow quickly changes to glaring at his daughter's boyfriend.
"And what about that garish green stain on your head?" He grumbles, picking up his fork.
"My head? Oh! Oh." Duncan's confused look turns sour as he realizes what she's talking about. "Well it's certainly not going anyw-"
Courtney stuffs food in his mouth with her fork. "NOT going to stay… for long! Hehe.. W-we're getting it trimmed after the show is over. You know, he has to keep his signature look for the cameras." Her stressed, dilated eyes and wide fake smile say it all. Her dad leans over, his presence towering.
"Right. The cameras. The very same cameras that will record him every second he's on the show. Whatever ridiculous challenge, or humiliating thing or anytime he even touches someone. That will be what people know about Duncan here. Because you just had to date a celebrity."
"I'm a celebrity too, dad. Like it or not, Total Drama is huge." Courtney
"And I don't like it. Do not talk to me that way."
"Hey, dude, it's-"
"Dude?"
"Uhh.. I mean 'sir.' It's like.. You know.. Uh.."
"Don't you have some food to chew? Don't blubber, it's unbecoming."
"Uh, yes sir." Duncan, for the first time in his life, is so nervous and awkward that he just follows her dad's instructions and begins eating rapidly.
"Slowly."
He slows his chewing, eyes wide at how docile this man is making him. Courtney is even more shocked. She puts her head in her hand and sighs.
"What's wrong." Mrs. Barlow's question comes out more as a statement.
Courtney looks up from her sweaty hand and takes a deep breath in, looking at the ticking clock on the wall behind her dad. "We have to go."
Duncan swallows his food. "We do?"
"Yes. We do. Don't you remember? There's a gathering happening near the precinct your parents work at. A work related gathering."
"Oooh, right, that gathering." Duncan uneasily replies.
"How punctual." Mr. Barlow growls. Duncan avoids eye contact.
The delinquent forces himself not to roll his eyes as he pushes back in his seat and stands up, getting ready to walk away. "Great meal, Mrs. B-"
Courtney grabs his hand and forces a chuckle, speaking through gritted teeth. "You almost forgot to clean up after yourself, honey!"
Duncan stares at Courtney's hand, then at the plate and open seat. Then his eyes slowly look up at her parents. He swallows, hard. "Ah- r-right. Let me get that."
He leans over and picks the plate up with two hands, forcing a smile and short laugh toward her stone-faced parents as Courtney anxiously hops her leg up and down. She watches him leave, eyes glued to him in case he trips or breaks a plate. Thankfully, he escapes the dining room without a scratch. The parents turn toward Courtney.
"Courtney." Mrs. Barlow speaks, getting her daughter's attention immediately.
"Yes ma'am?"
"Why didn't you break up with him like we asked of you in our video message?"
"I've been wondering the same thing. Because here I thought you wanted us to help pay for law school."
"O-of course I do! And I'm getting money on my own, by the way! I'm currently fighting a lawsuit with-"
"With money that isn't yours and chances in the negatives." Mr. Barlow shoots back.
CLANG!
"Oops! I-I uh dropped a dish! D-don't come in though, I'll totally pick it up." Duncan's disembodied voice yells frantically. Both of the Hispanic parents point their noses up as they look toward the kitchen. "Ow! Motherfucker.. Shitty stupid china.."
Courtney whimpers, biting her bottom lip.
"I… I… But I really like him." Her voice quivers.
"Break up with him. You can do so much better." Mrs. Barlow demands, with a hint of desperation. "There will be others more stable than him."
Courtney swallows, avoiding staring as she shifts in her chair. "I.. better go help him before he gets hurt."
"Sounds like it's too late to help him." Mr. Barlow states.
Courtney opens her mouth, but no words come out. She swallows a lump in her throat and stands, pushing her chair in and carrying her plate to the kitchen. Both of her parents continue their meal in silence.
Geoff's house is now decorated in empty beer kegs, a disco ball, strobe lights, dixie cups, speakers, chip bags, streamers, balloons and a cooler three feet tall, stocked with ice, soda and water. The beers have yet to arrive. Bridgette and her friends Melony, the same blonde who delivered her video message from home, Stogie, her hippie boyfriend, and Aurora, a dark skinned woman with long free hair and long legs lay on or in front of the couch stoned out of their minds, a techno-colored bong sitting on the table in front of them as they veg out and watch TV. An advertisement for Total Drama Action plays just as Geoff paces in front of it.
"Heyyyy… babe, I can't see the TV." Bridgette slowly says.
"That's too bad, Bridge. I'm a pacer planner, you knew that when you started dating me." Geoff mutters, continuing to pace.
"Ooooooooohhhh." Her friends mock. Bridgette, red faced and puffy eyed, furrows her brows at him.
"H-hey, what's your fucking problem, Geoff? I thought you like, wanted this party to happen. You did, right?" Bridgette confusedly asks. Geoff tightens his fists and sighs.
"Yes, babe, I did."
"So like… why do you have a giant metal pole up your ass about it?" Bridgette questions.
"Yeah, dude, it's not like, you know this is like…. What was I saying?" Stogie rambles.
"I don't even know.." Aurora replies.
"You should just chill out. I'm getting this awful vibe from you. Like, your aura is completely black. Oh my gosh, we should do a reading for Geoff! Geoff, do you think that's a good idea?"
"I don't have time for aura readings! Owen still doesn't have the beer, and this party gets started in an hour! Brody still isn't here with the burgers, or the fizzy orange soda, and it stinks like skunk in here!"
"Geoff, don't knock it till you try it. Here, smoke up, you'll feel so much lighter." Bridgette reaches toward her friend's bong, wrapping her calm palm around it and shaking it tantalizingly in front of Geoff. He pushes it gently away.
"Ugh, no way! I have a raging headache. What I need right now is for everything to go perfectly." He rubs his temples rapidly with two fingers each.
"Why are you so stressed anyway?" Melony questions.
"Is it 'cause of the show, dude?" Stogie asks.
Geoff growls before belting out, "No! I don't know, okay? But I know weed isn't gonna solve my problem."
"I'm here!" Brody's voice yells, his leg kicking the door. "Ow! Uh, Geoff, dude, you locked the door on me, man. Can I get in?"
"Finally." Geoff walks toward the front, rolling his eyes.
"He's so angry." Melony laughs, which in turn transforms into a cough.
"I know, right? Geez…" Bridgette agrees, shaking her head as she tries to focus on the reality show on the TV now that Geoff is gone.
The party dude opens the door for the other party dude. Brody grins from ear to ear. "Heyyy, buddy! Wow, you're not looking so good." He points at him, one eyebrow raised. "Did you get enough sleep last night?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, it's cool, dude, don't even worry. Did you bring the stuff?" Geoff scratches behind his ear, sniffling. A camera suddenly pops up from behind a bush and flashes him, disorienting him and causing him to blink rapidly. "The hell? Paparazzi?"
Josh from Celebrity Manhunt rushes up to Geoff's front steps, pointing a microphone in-between Geoff and Brody with a camera crew behind him. He appears out of breath. "Geoffrey, Brody! It's Josh from… hoo… from Celebrity Manhunt… What's the scoop on 'the stuff' you want from our dear friend here?"
"Josh Hill knows my name?! AHH!" Brody shrieks in a high pitched voice, jumping up and down. He grabs the microphone, pulling it toward himself. "Hi mom! Hi dad! I'm on TV! Josh Hill knows my name, man! This is awesome!" Brody continues to jump up and down like an idiot. Geoff, exhausted, steals the microphone.
"You wanna know what's going on? The party stinks! And it hasn't even started yet. We don't have the room for all you reporters, and most importantly, I don't want you here!"
"Oh… I see. Can you tell us if there'll be beer at this party?" Josh asks intrusively. Geoff crosses his arms.
"No, dude. Tch. Who told you about this thing anyways?"
Josh holds his pinky up to his ear piece, seemingly being told the information from someone else. "I've been told our source is the bus driver who drove you home from Muskoka."
"Aw, for real? Look, I'll give you a major scoop after I get on Total Drama. An exclusive for Celebrity Manhunt." Geoff states.
Josh gasps. "REALLY?!"
"Yes, really. Ahem. If, and only if, you leave the house and don't come back. That means no stalking, no breaking in, no microphones." Geoff shoves the microphone back in Josh's hands.
Brody looks disappointed. "Aw, no mics? Guess I'm not so famous after all."
"Brody, please!... Go unpack the groceries."
"Oh yeah. Bye, CM!" Brody waves the camera people goodbye, but not before pulling Josh in for a hug. Josh looks uncomfortable.
"Uh.. Bye, Brody." Brody runs inside, leaving the two to continue negotiations. "So… an exclusive you say?"
"Yup. An exclusive." Geoff parrots.
They shake on it. "...You got yourself a deal, kid."
In an 80s themed bowling alley, DJ sits on the bench with his hand supporting his chin and his eyes slanted with disgust as his mother and Chef, both wearing casualwear, flirtatiously snuggle. DJ's Momma lines up her shot, holding the big, round, brown ball in her hands as Chef stands behind her, his arms wrapped around her rectangular hips and his chin overlapping her shoulder.
"You see that turkey? You could get three in a row." Chef points at the pins.
"Mm, I see it. I think I could make it. What do you think?" Momma rubs her rear end against Chef's trousers.
"I think you're a better bowler than me. And you're a first timer." Chef grins down at her.
Momma laughs. "You flatter me, Jerome."
"Oh, Beverly.." Chef leans in and attacks her neck with lust-filled suckles and sensually nibbling. DJ gags, looking away.
"Ah! Come on, Momma! I'm right here!"
The two stop canoodling, with Chef ignoring him to stare at the pins and Beverly shyly looking down. "Sorry, bubba! Lemme focus on my shot, sugar-boo." She tells her boy-toy.
"Ooh, I love it when you call me that~" Chef giggles like a schoolgirl.
"Eughyuck!" DJ wretches, hiding his face with his hands. "This can't be real.."
"On the count of three, spin the ball down the lane and knock 'em dead." Chef orders.
Momma nods, her eyes narrowing at the pins down the lane. She leans back against him, bringing the ball inward. "Feel that big, brown, luscious, meaty.. Sizable ball in your hands."
"Mm, boy you are re-awakening my ovaries!" Momma chirps.
"That's what I like to hear. Now let's count down together." Chef sensually whispers.
"One…
Two…
Three."
The ball rolls at breakneck speed, crashing into the pins, scattering them into the endless pit of victory. A turkey is scored. Above them, the monitor displays a graphic of a turkey being chopped up accompanied by Comic Sans text font flashing neon blue.
Momma screams in delight, turning around to hug Chef. "Oooooooh, I did it, pookie-bear!"
"Pookie bear?" DJ questions. His eyes avert from the two desperately, scanning the ceiling… then he sees it. "Oh no… Please tell me I'm dreaming."
Chef smirks, looking back at the traumatized Momma's boy with a deliberate devilishness. His jaw drops as he shakes his head and screams no. Before Momma can see what's going on, Chef turns her around and tilts her chin up.
WILL YOU MARRY ME?
Momma erupts in tears and laughter as she turns back around to see Chef on one knee, holding a rusty gold ring in a small box for her. She clasps her hands together, fanning herself. "Oh, tell me this is real! Please, lord let this be real!"
"It is, Beverly. This wedding ring belonged to… someone else. But now it's yours. I paid for it to be given back to me."
"Oh, from where?" Momma asks, breathless.
Chef scratches the back of his neck. "Let's not get down with the details and just say that it comes from a very special place from my past."
Six feet underground, Lenora Hatchet's skeletal finger is missing a golden ring.
DJ runs up to the two, getting between them. "No, no, no way! You are not in love with my Momma! I don't believe it!"
"DJ… I thought you'd be happy for us! I'm making your moms very happy." Chef says in a soft tone, his hand over his heart.
"He is, Devon Joseph! How could you be so rude?" Momma shrieks. All eyes are on the three now, with many gasping or taking their phones out to record the exchange.
"Mom, you watched the show! Chef ain't a good man, he's a lunatic!" DJ lashes out.
Beverly gasps while DJ glares at him, jabbing a finger in his chest. "Watch your tongue, pretty boy! Beverly, please." He grabs the woman's hand, kissing her knuckles with soft eyes on hers. "I love you. I truly do. And I need you. I will be the best husband and step-father I can be."
"Momma, you can't say yes! You've only known each other for two weeks!"
"I'm a mature woman, DJ. Far too old for games, or teenage love. It's time I got married. Yes. I'll marry you, Jerome Hatchet." She slips on the ring and they collapse into each other, hugging as tight as they can, eyes closed. The crowd cheers and claps for them. DJ falls to his knees, screaming to the heavens.
"NOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Chef smirks at the teen, winking at him. DJ growls, standing up before running away. Momma watches him go. "DJ! Come back here!"
Chef puts a hand on her shoulder. "Let the boy go. He's going to that party. I'll look after him on the show."
"You will? You promise? He's a fragile boy, Jerome. I need you to step up. Even if he hates you." Momma buries her head in Chef's chest, weeping into him.
"Don't worry, baby. He'll have no choice but to accept my love. Hehehehehe." Chef snickers, rubbing his hands together mischievously. Momma doesn't notice.
A thirteen year old with pony-tail crimson hair, smart looking glasses and a lab coat a little too big to fit her 5'2 body opens the trunk of a sedan in a dank alley by a well-lit convenience store. Owen and Izzy stand behind her, the former nervously twiddling his thumbs while the latter maniacally waits. "I'm so excited, I could just bite something! Do you ever feel that way, Owen?"
"All the time. Usually with steak or a good corn on the c- ow!" Izzy sinks her teeth into Owen's arm, licking up the hairless spot. He giggles. "That tickles!"
Muffled screams and grunting come from the trunk. Owen goes wide eyed while Izzy laughs. The little girl leans over the car and whispers. "Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up, or else I'll skin you alive, and trust me I've crunched the numbers – there is NO life after death."
His cries became much quieter, but also much more petrified. Owen chuckles nervously. "Woah… that's uh, really hardcore. Uh, hey, E-Scope, think we should help this guy out maybe? He is pretty scared."
Izzy and Scarlett exchange a look between one another. But they can't hold in their laughter. Owen looks down guiltily. "Yeah, I guess that was kinda stupid."
The young girl marches toward them, handing Izzy the man's drivers license. "Coolio! He looks just like you, Big-O!" She holds the license up to Owen. The only comparison is the blonde hair. Otherwise, this man is a tall, skinny but lean middle aged office worker. Owen, paranoid, laughs it off.
"Can we go now? The party's starting soon." Owen points out.
"Sure. You paid me already, so our business is done here." Scarlett responds.
"Oh okay. Hey, uh, what are you gonna do with that guy?" The pudgy boy asks.
"Oh, this guy? He owes me some restitution." Scarlett gingerly massages the man's shivering skull as he shakes his head and struggles against her nails. She pushes him back before slamming the trunk shut. "Good luck with your dumb party." She heads toward the driver's seat, closes the door and turns the car on, jetting out of the alleyway. Owen watches the car drive away with a guilt ridden expression.
Izzy suddenly takes his hand in both of hers. "Come on, let's go get some beer!"
"Woah!" He's dragged across the street by the powerful force of a crazy chick. The convenience store door slides open automatically as the two arrive in front of it. Izzy's sharp grin lights up her face, sort of like a chihuahua's canines when they're in an extra cunty mood.
The college aged convenience store operator riddled with acne smiles softly. "Oh hey! I know you guys, you're Owen and Izzy from Total Drama I-"
Izzy peels a chunk of her shirt off, a red dynamite toy set strapped to her stomach, running up to the counter with a duffel bag. "PUT ALL THE BEER IN THE BAG, HOMBRE, OR EVERYONE GETS BLOWN TO BITZ! BOOM BOOM!"
Owen and the cashier scream their lungs out, not seeing the Fisher Price logo indented on the front of the TNT. "Okay, okay, shit! Sorry, I'm so sorry!" The cashier grabs the duffel from her hands and quickly grabs as much beer as he can, crouching low so he doesn't get hurt as he does so.
"No, no, I'm sorry!..." Owen reads his nametag. "Fred! Oh gosh, where did I go wrong?! Izzy, what's the matter with you?!"
"Izzy isn't in there anymore, buckaroo! Now it's Explosivos time to shine! Boom, boom!" She makes an explosion effect with her hands, her voice now slightly more Mexican. While he's down there, Fred presses the silent alarm. After all of the beers are secured and Owen has sweated out all of the water he drank today, Izzy grabs the duffle just as police sirens chime in. Izzy takes a sharp inhale as they run out the door.
"We're not even gonna pay the poor guy? What was the point of getting the ID then?!" Owen questions.
"Huh? Oh, silly, Owen! That was all for fun! Besides, I can't control when Explosivo takes over." Izzy laughs, seemingly back to… 'normal.'
"B-but I didn't even know he existed until today!" Owen shrieks.
"He only comes out when school starts. Or maybe he doesn't. I dunno!" Izzy shrugs, taking his hand once more. "Come on, the pigs are coming and this beer won't be cold forever! ¡Ándale, ándale!" She takes off as fast as her feet can carry her.
Owen yells for his life as he follows his girlfriend, muttering the word crap at least a hundred times on his way to Geoff's.
Tyler drives his (father's) red SUV to Geoff's party, the dashcam lighting up the interior as the streetlamps outside and the big, bright moon light up the world around them. Oh, right, Lindsay's there too. In the passenger seat, she can't help but continue staring at herself in the mirror. While Tyler decided to throw on a brown coat, jeans and some gel in his admittedly rather cute chestnut hair, Lindsay was decked out. Pretty silver rings on her long, manicured fingers, a gorgeous flowing red dress sparkling with different (fake) gems, heels that concealed her shoe size and scrunched her feet tightly in, and a bun more extravagant than Rhianna's. Her cleavage really pops, too.
Tyler finally notices how quiet she's been, as well as how confused and sad she looks. "What's wrong, Lindsay?"
"Do you think this looks good on me? I think maybe I picked the colors wrong." Lindsay asks.
Tyler stops at a red light, getting a good enough chance to look at her long-term. She folds her arms back behind her head, showing off her clean shaven, almost sexy arms, full bust and glossy orange lips. He blushes heavily. "I- uh.. Wow.. Lindsay.."
"Oh no, I did, didn't I?" Lindsay gasps, her hand over her mouth.
Tyler shakes his head. "No! Not at all! I… I just can't believe you're real."
"You thought I was fake all along? Oh my gosh, I thought I was crazy. I thought you were made up too!" She points her finger at him. He looks her up and down, mystified.
"You're so cool.. And you look gorgeous, by the way. I mean… really pretty." Tyler compliments.
"Tyler.." She giggles. They lean in toward each other. Tyler puts a hand on hers, while her hand steps on his leg. Tyler's eyes dilate, his heart skipping a beat, his manhood rising in his pants.
HONK!
"AH!" The two scream, holding each other. They look back to see a disgruntled driver behind them, then back front to see a green light blaring at them. Tyler leans out his window. "Sorry!" He yells, then drives forward.
After a few seconds of silence, Lindsay clears her throat. "Daddy asked me before we left if you've ever… you know."
"Uh, hit a three pointer? Once. But coach said it didn't count because I fell and the ball just so happened to land in the net from where I was standing."
"Ahaha.. Aww, that's so sad." Lindsay says, smiling.
"I know, right?" Tyler replies.
The blonde shakes her head, amused. "But no, that's not what I meant."
Tyler peaks at her as he takes a right turn. "Huh? What do you mean?"
Lindsay looks down at her legs. "I mean… he asked if we were still virgins."
Tyler goes wide eyed. "Oh! Uh… Well, he knows I am, right?"
"Well, yes. But he thinks I'm one too.. I always felt ashamed that I gave myself up so early to my other boyfriends, so I never really told my family." She plays with the end of her dress nervously.
"Oh, Linds… I'm sorry." Tyler apologizes.
"It's okay. I mean, I'm happy with our pace." Lindsay replies.
"Me too."
She looks up at him, blushing but smiling past it. "But…"
"Yeah?"
Lindsay takes a deep breath in as Tyler pulls up to Geoff's house, car after car already lined up in front of them. They're set back a fair way from the house, which is already lit up with extravagant lights. Lindsay unbuckles her seatbelt, seating herself over Tyler's lap as he puts the car in E-brake mode. His own E-brake brushes against her crotch as she settles down on top of him, her hands running through his hair as he lips crash into his. Tyler moans into her mouth, opening his for her to get into as fast as possible.
After some rough, intimate, sloppy and wet kissing, and some horny grinding from Lindsay, she hugs him tight and whispers into his ear… "Daddy got us penis balloons if you want to take me right now…"
Tyler nearly faints. But instead he does something even worse. "What's a penis balloon?"
Ezekiel sits on his bed, downtrodden. His room is the cleanest in the house, and still reeks, not to mention how shaggy the rug is. His beanie rests on the side of his right leg. He has one ear attentively listening for the sound of his parents footsteps while his other focuses his attention on the outdoors. Cars drive by, the occasional banjo solo plays loudly and boisterously, he even catches some party country being played in the trailer next to his.
Sighing, his hand scrolls back up and down in the group chat Geoff invited him to. His phone once again buzzes. Everyone is having a better time than him right now. At least at the Playa he had an entire resort to himself for three days, and plenty of good memories surviving summer all alone in that resort. At least he had friends, like Trent who had his back.
Trent…
What would Trent do? He asks himself this as he lays back in his bed and holds his phone to his chest.
"Trent would… he would rebel. He wouldn't sit here and be grounded. He'd stand up and run away." Zeke sits up. "He'd…. He'd get to the party no matter what. And he'd tell Gwen that he loves her. Like I should tell Bridgette!" He stands up. "And he'd play music! I can play music! I love music, eh! Heheheheyeah!" Zeke shoves his boots on his tattered socks, then walks up to the door. He slowly opens it a smidge. His father hacks up a lung in the living room, while his mother rubs his back.
Zeke turns his free hand into a fist as he carefully closes the door and opens his window, climbing out without a second thought.
"Sorry, mom and dad. I'll see you tomorrow. Promise." He closes the window nearly all the way, then begins his march toward the bus stop outside the trailer park, a teen reborn.